Caffeine
by UnfathomableFandoms
Summary: Rebellion comes in all forms, even the most subtle. Sometimes it comes in the form of coffee art.


**(This fanfiction is a tribute to my fabulous beta, talented writer, and awesome friend, RadicalCat! The cover is from her tumblr. I hope you enjoy this! And "Rise, Red as the dawn, comes from** _ **Red Queen**_ **by Victoria Aveyard.)**

The crew had stopped at a local café on the outskirts of Lothal after sending more crates to Tarkintown. It had gone off without a hitch, and they had a few credits to spare. Missions had been eerily quiet lately, but even Kanan wasn't one to complain.

The crew had insisted on taking a break.

Kanan had been cautious at first, claiming that they couldn't afford such simple luxuries when the Empire was keeping their eyes fixed on Lothal. It was twenty-four hour surveillance, even on the outmost corners of the planet.

But Sabine happened to be very good at begging, and Ezra was a master negotiator. He'd claimed he'd seen a café near his tower on Lothal, and had claimed that some of the employees had lent him food when he was younger.

Hera had been the one to convince him, ultimately.

So here they were, sitting at a café bar, wearily eyeing the streets for any signs of Stormtroopers.

The place was mostly empty, and the customers kept to themselves for the most part. It smelled sweetly of coffee and foreign spices, almost overwhelming but still pleasant.

Sabine talked with Ezra and Zeb, joking around like siblings. Hera and Kanan spoke quietly among themselves.

"I'm Lauren. Can I help you?" The barista was human, smiling with an overly pleasant smile. She polished a mug, and it was cleaner than anything he'd seen on Lothal- including Ezra. She clearly knew what she was doing.

She smiled, but she had a clever look in her eyes that sent Kanan off guard. His spine tingled, but the Force wasn't telling him to run. Kanan shuffled on his barstool forcing himself to stay put.

Sabine paused in her conversation. "I'll have a latte. Piping hot, top it with whatever art you can do in coffee. Impress me."

The barista grinned, pouring coffee beans into a percolator. The bitter smell of coffee strengthened in the room.

Ezra pursed his lips in thought. "I'll have a-"

"Decaf." Kanan did not want Ezra jumpy. Caffeine did weird things to the Force, and he wanted Ezra ready if they had to make a quick escape.

Ezra scowled at his Master. "I'll have a _decaf_ mocha. This art stuff sounds cool, so give it a try."

Zeb leaned forward. "Gimme your strongest coffee. Add a shott'aa Rum. Make it interesting."

Clearly, Zeb didn't understand why Kanan had forced Ezra into decaf.

Hera waved her hand. "Iced coffee please."

"None." Kanan didn't want to see how expensive their order already was.

The mug slid across the table, not a single drop trickling from the lip of the cup. Steam rose in the air, sweet-smelling. It certainly smelled better than any of the black coffee Kanan had had on the _Ghost_.

Sabine's eyes narrowed. The milk froth on top had been curved and curled into a shape, one Kanan couldn't quite decipher from his vantage point.

"How did you…?" Sabine's hand ghosted against her blaster. Kanan knew this wasn't good.

Kanan stood, glancing over Sabine's shoulder.

The creamy white liquid was starting to melt into the steaming coffee, but it was easy enough to tell what it was.

A starbird, one Sabine had invented herself. The wings curled, fading into the brown liquid like smoke. The bird held its head high even as it dissipated into the coffee.

Lauren slid Zeb and Ezra their mugs. "I saw it on your breastplate. It's a nice design." The keen tilt to Lauren's head made it obvious she didn't just like the design.

Ezra _had_ said the employees were not loyal to the Empire. Kanan studied Lauren in a new light, and her steady eyes stared right back.

Ezra nudged his elbow. "Kanan. Kanan, is this what I think it is?"

Ezra had his hands curled around the mug, holding it close like a secret.

The design was not dissimilar to the Empire's symbol, closely resembling a gear. It had been painted in syrup on his drink.

"The Galactic Republic." Kanan breathed in confirmation.

Lauren's head snapped to attention, just at the same time the Force hummed a low warning tone in his mind.

He and Ezra turned around.

The white armor gleamed in the Lothal sun, with an Imperial dressed in plain brown fatigues leading the patrol squad.

"Imps." Lauren whispered.

Lauren stuck her finger into Ezra's still piping hot drink, swirling the liquid around until the design melted into the coffee. Then she turned around, licking the dripping liquid from her finger. "Follow me."

"Great. I didn't even get my coffee." Zeb grumbled, before turning to follow Lauren.

Kanan hoped he wasn't being led straight into a trap.

She led them to a small cellar, packed with supply crates full of coffee beans and powdered milk. There was a musty smell to the air, and there were no lights. Kanan almost crashed into a crate of flavored syrups.

Lauren pulled Kanan aside. "I know who you are. I've seen what you do. I wanted to thank you. Someday, the difference you're making will be recognized." Her eyes glimmered in the dim lighting. "Stay quiet while your down here, but _never_ let your voice be silenced."

Lauren turned around, climbing up the ladder and shutting the door. The last thing he saw was the unwavering glimmer of her eyes, and the last thing he heard was the commander barking orders.

Kanan sat beside Ezra, who looked a lot like he was trying hard not to have a panic attack. He had his hands fisted in the fabric of his vest, and he was inhaling shallowly through his nose. Kanan could feel him shaking. Zeb shifted, folding his long legs up to his chest.

" _Kid_ , would you stop that?" Zeb's whisper sounded like a raging windstorm in the quiet room. Kanan held his breath, but no footsteps came over their heads.

Ezra shook his head, and whispered between labored breaths, "I remember- hiding in that room. While they raided the house." Ezra shoved a hand into his mouth, biting down hard. His eyes stared blindly into the darkness, blown wide with fear. Tears glimmered on the edge of falling.

Kanan pressed his hand onto Ezra's shoulder, trying not to elbow Hera in the ribs. They were all crammed against one wall, instinctually pressing themselves as far away from the ladder as possible. Kanan kept one hand ready on his blaster, silently praying that Lauren wouldn't hand them over. He tried to convince himself she was trustworthy.

Ezra's shoulders pumped up and down, faster and faster. If he breathed much louder, they would be discovered, and shipped off to some Imperial prison to be tortured. Kanan shivered. Ghastly memories flicked at the edges of his vision, his muscles ached as if there was still electricity coursing through them.

Kanan closed his eyes, trying not to focus on the Force Signatures only a few feet above them, or his trembling heart.

Instead, he took a deep breath and concentrated with all he had on Ezra's signature, thinking " _it's all right_ ," over and over again. He couldn't tell if he was trying to convince Ezra or himself.

After what felt like the longest hour of his life, Ezra's breathing slowed down. He could sense the Imperials' signatures fading away. Kanan opened his eyes as the door opened and Lauren slid down the ladder.

Kanan stretched slowly, shaking the familiar prickling out of his limbs. Zeb unfolded himself, still bending over so his head wouldn't scrape the low ceiling.

Lauren flipped a switch on the wall, and light stabbed into Kanan's eyes. He blinked as his pupils contracted.

Lauren sneered. "Good news, the Imps left. Bad news, they don't like my coffee. They didn't even appreciate the hot shower I gave them."

Sabine sniggered, rubbing the kinks out of her neck. "They never appreciate my art either. It's not your fault they have bad taste."

Hera stepped forward, folding her hands. "Thank you for your help, Lauren. Is there some way we can repay you? We can get you some supplies."

"Straight from the Empire." Ezra grinned, clearly over his anxious episode.

Lauren tightened her ponytail. "I was repaying you. What you do… I've never seen people look more alive. At least, not without five cups of coffee." She turned to face Ezra.

"Especially after your transmission, I've noticed things. People standing up for their rights, or at least realizing that they _have_ them. You're making a difference."

Ezra pursed his lips and nodded, clearly trying hard not to smile.

Before Kanan could exit the little café, Lauren pressed something into his hand, a small black datapad. Kanan studied it.

"What is this?"

Lauren narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, an odd smirk playing on her features. "It's a… recipe."

Kanan sat in his cabin, running his thumb along the surface of the datapad. For some reason, he couldn't get himself to turn it on.

This datapad could really be a recipe, but Lauren didn't strike him as one to do something without a greater meaning behind it. It could be information, or even a tracking device the Empire was following them on right now. Kanan had to know. He finally turned it on.

 _1 tbsp. cream_

 _2 cups coffee beans_

Had Lauren really just given him a recipe? Kanan's mouth twisted, and he scrolled through two more useless recipes before finding what he was looking for.

 _If you've gotten this far, those recipes are useless._

Kanan kept reading, hoping to find something more useful than the recipes. Lauren had written a poem, and Kanan squinted, trying to memorize all the words she had cleverly underlined.

 _Twilight _

_How beautiful! How the suns_

 _Rise out of darkness_

 _Over_ _senate buildings_

 _And grassy plains_

 _If only the sun would_ _meet me_

 _Over its distant horizon,_

 _Bring_ _ing something new_

 _The sun does not meet_ _everyone_

 _If only hope would rise_

 _Red as the dawn_

Kanan rubbed a hand through his hair, smoothing the fly-aways back. He pocketed the datapad and opening his door. Hera needed to see this.

Something told Kanan that Lauren would be a valuable ally.


End file.
